A Peculiar Chill is in the Air...

A peculiar chill is in the air

for such a summer morning.

No ocean or shore to glisten

awakening all senses.

But the music of leaves applauding

the morning sunrise and its power

usher the day into a higher purpose.

A sea of forgetfulness frustrates the mind

yet a swamp of regret gets left behind

with every stride and movement forward.

The body feels much older than yesterday

when running was simple

and friends were easily made and lost;

stupidity is a race that no man can win.

But when walking

the weathered asphalt greets every step

as a witness of endurance

and possible continuance;

if only the legs didn’t feel so heavy.

The cold wind is waiting

for the return trip home,

penetrating fingers to the bone;

a man’s breath is momentarily

snatched away.

The cold resistance is welcomed though

when one knows which way to go

and the pace of survival is not as slow.

The sounds of a city waking

to another opportune time

stirs a man in solitary

creating new rhythm and rhyme.

Peace comes in many forms

and is present in many places

if a man is willing to walk on empty

into such discomfort and foreign spaces;
especially in his own company.  

~2011  Vaughn Wood